


Seek and He Shall Hide

by Brate



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is possible to be <em>too</em> appreciative. Tag to "The Tao of Rodney."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seek and He Shall Hide

"Save me!"

John Sheppard looked up from his book to see the wild countenance of Rodney McKay as he ran into his room. "And what am I saving you from?" he drawled, knowing the danger was imagined. If it were real, Rodney would've run and hidden behind him.

"Ronon," Rodney answered in a huff.

John frowned. "I thought he was grateful to you for fixing his back?" When Rodney'd had his "powers," he'd healed the Satedan's scar from the Wraith tracker.

"He is," Rodney lamented. "Overly so."

"Then what's the problem?"

"He won't leave me alone. He keeps wanting to help me."

John thought about it. "Doesn't sound so bad."

"Tell me that when you have a ten-foot Wookiee following you around everywhere." Rodney paced, arms flailing. "He even sat in on my weekly meeting and growled at every scientist who annoyed me . . . which turned out to be all of them."

"I'd think you of all people would appreciate that."

"It's my job to intimidate my minions. I have them specially trained to fear me."

John valiantly kept a straight face.

"If Chewbacca comes in and makes them pee themselves, they'll no longer cower before me."

Coughing a laugh, John quickly changed it to clearing his throat. "What do you want me to do?"

"Help me. Hide me."

"I'm a little busy." John held up his book.

"Oh, please." Rodney snorted. "Like you're really reading that. I'll borrow Kavanaugh's comic book version for you. Bright, shiny pictures and short, simple words." Rodney started searching John's room, opening drawers and pawing through his lockbox. "You got any food?"

"Isn't there anywhere else for you to go?"

"He's already found me in the Control Room, my lab, the lunchroom, the infirmary, and even in the laundry room, for God's sake."

"Well, he is a tracker."

"He's a bloodhound," Rodney snapped back. "Seriously, the man's deranged. Must be all that hair."

"No wonder you're completely sane," John deadpanned.

Rodney's hands automatically flew to his head.

With an exaggerated sigh, John set the book aside. Truth be told, he was glad. War & Peace really was dull. No wonder it took being trapped in another galaxy for him to pick it up. "Okay, but we're not staying here."

"Why, what's wrong with here?"

"For one thing, there's not enough room for you to pace and talk with your hands. I have fragile stuff here, McKay."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure the beer bottle is a limited edition."

"More importantly, Ronon will be here soon. He knows you too well."

Rodney's eyes darted wildly, as if expecting Ronon to drop down from the ceiling or out from behind John's bed. "You're right. Where can we go?"

John smiled. "I have an idea."

* * * * *

"This is where your great military mind thought to hide me?"

John glanced around and back at Rodney. "Yep."

"I'm doomed."

"Relax, Ronon's never been out here and he'd never believe _you_ would voluntarily come." John paused. "Although, I'm thinking he might be okay at this. Of course, we'd have to finesse some of his brute strength . . ."

"Please spare me the running commentary of your supposed machismo." Rodney stared forlornly at the Atlantis driving range with its false turf, ball, and clubs.

"You don't have to play, Rodney. I just figured since I had to baby-sit, I might as well have some fun."

" _You_ said I wouldn't need my laptop."

John shrugged. "I thought you could relax."

"I can't relax with nothing to do," Rodney huffed. "Besides, you know I hate this sport."

John could actually see the quote marks around sport. "Just hit a few balls, work off some of your aggression."

"The only thing that will ease my aggression is work." Nonetheless, Rodney picked out a club and stood on the other "green," and attempted to whack a ball into the ocean. It made it on his fourth swing. His foot had accidentally knocked the ball from the tee, sending it rolling over the side of the deck and into the water.

"This sucks." Rodney dropped the club and walked over to the wall, flopping down on the floor.

John spared him a glace before continuing.

The air was punctuated with the swish of a club repeatedly striking a ball. The relative quiet lasted for six minutes—John timed it—before it was broken.

"How long am I going to be stuck out here?" Rodney asked, his tone pitiful.

"Don't worry, McKay. I'm sure you'll piss Ronon off soon enough and he'll go back to barely tolerating you."

"You really think so?" Rodney asked hopefully.

John lined up a shot. "I guarantee it."


End file.
